


Close Your Eyes

by Riona



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: F/M, Hotel Kumasutra, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, ethical dilemmas handled poorly, non-explicit dubcon (in that the Key of Love's concept is inherently sort of dubcon)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 10:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12386043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riona/pseuds/Riona
Summary: Shuichi develops an unfortunate addiction to the love hotel.





	Close Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This fic very much reflects the way I played this game; I completely forgot about everything else and spent hours trying to get all the love hotel scenes. Whoops.
> 
> Although I've used surnames, honorifics, 'Monobear' etc. when writing for the earlier _Dangan Ronpa_ games, I first experienced _Danganronpa V3_ by playing the official NISA release, so I've used its translation conventions here. I've also stretched out the timeline of the game a little so night can fall more often between murders.

The dreams the key from the casino gave him were... a little overwhelming, at first, a little terrifying. They’re so _vivid_. The day after he first used it, he couldn’t look at Tsumugi without blushing.

The key was somehow gone in the morning, which was probably just as well. He didn’t need the temptation to use it again.

Two days later, he went back to the casino and earned enough coins to buy another one.

He’s been back to that strange, unreal room every night since. It’s becoming increasingly hard to look _any_ of the others in the eye. But he can’t stop. He’s already living in a nightmare; the dreams are the only thing that can distract him.

-

“I am well versed in ropes,” Kiyo says when they’re investigating Ryoma’s murder, and Shuichi nearly swallows his own tongue. Whips around to stare at him.

It’s coincidence. It’s coincidence.

“Oh?” Kiyo’s eyes are as inscrutable as always. Why does he always have to wear that mask? It’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking. “Is something the matter, Shuichi?”

He can feel the rope pulled tight around his wrists, so clearly he’s afraid of looking down in case it’s somehow actually there. In case Kiyo’s about to take him apart, right here, in front of Kaito.

(How would Kaito react in that situation? What would he do? Would he be shocked, disgusted? Would he be jealous? How can Shuichi be thinking about this, with Ryoma a pile of bones just feet away?)

It’s coincidence. They’re just _dreams_.

-

The night after the trial. Two more of them dead. Kaede died in an effort to prevent this killing game from ever starting; even if she didn’t manage to kill the mastermind, Shuichi was hoping that everyone would respect her sacrifice enough not to commit murder. It would be easier to cope with her death if it meant that the rest of them could live.

He thinks about Kirumi’s fingers against his neck.

Was that real?

When he’d explained the key, Monokuma had made it sound like something more than just a dream. Shuichi had just assumed that was an exaggeration. But he experienced Kiyo’s... expertise with ropes (he loosens a button of his shirt) _before_ he actually learnt that ropes were something the real Kiyo had an interest in. So was Kiyo really there, in a sense?

_Memories are wiped when you exit_. Shuichi’s been wondering what that means; he remembers those nights, after all. Maybe it’s that the _other_ person doesn’t remember.

If they’re more than just dreams, if he and the others are having the _same_ dream, the same experience – if he’s getting a real insight into their private fantasies, if in a sense he’s really touching them...

Shuichi lies on his bed, staring at the ceiling, weighing the key in his hand.

“Is this... ethical?” he asks, aloud.

He’s forgotten it’s dangerous to ask himself rhetorical questions, because Monokuma will spring out of his closet and take it upon himself to answer them. It’s never going to stop being terrifying.

“Some,” Monokuma says, while Shuichi struggles to stop choking, “would say it’s unethical _not_ to have pseudo-real sex with everyone you know.”

Shuichi gets his breathing under control, sits up to frown at him. “No, they wouldn’t. Who says that?”

Monokuma folds his arms. “Some would say Shuichi Saihara needs to stop asking questions.”

That one might be true.

“You don’t need to worry about ethics,” Monokuma says. “The rules you’re used to don’t apply. This is a world where killing is fine, after all!”

Shuichi hesitates. “I’m not sure it is.”

“Worry about _other_ things,” Monokuma says. “For example, do you ever wonder why the key is gone in the morning?”

“I assumed you stole it,” Shuichi says.

“Do you think maybe you swallow it every night? Do you think all those keys are just sitting there in your stomach? You’re going to start rattling when you walk soon.”

“You definitely steal it,” Shuichi says.

“Well, anyway,” Monokuma says, with a shrug, “they enjoy it. They don’t remember it. What’s the problem?”

It’s tempting to embrace that reasoning, but having his behaviour endorsed by Monokuma is just making Shuichi feel worse. “They don’t really know what’s going on.”

“Then stop,” Monokuma says. “Or don’t. It’s not my job to make you feel better about your perversions.”

He hops back into the closet and closes the door. Shuichi stares at it for a moment, then gets up to open it. There’s nobody there.

Shuichi lies back down on the bed. The key feels heavy. But he hasn’t thrown it away yet.

He shouldn’t do this any more. Ethical questions aside, it’s going to be even harder to behave normally around everyone else when he knows these nights are kind of _real_.

It’s just...

He could be dead in a day. He shouldn’t think that, he knows; he should trust in the others, he should believe that the killings are over. But it’s so hard to forget the possibility. He probably doesn’t have long left. The others don’t remember these nights; they’ll die with him. So... does it really matter, if he indulges in a little distraction from the situation they’re in?

It probably matters. It’s probably wrong. But he’s always been weak.

He closes his eyes.

-

“You’re always in here,” Maki says.

“Ah.” Shuichi can feel himself flushing. “Well, in this situation... I guess I’ll take any escapism I can get.”

“Escapism,” Maki says. She glances past him, to the salmon-filled screen that by this point he sees whenever he closes his eyes (if he isn’t seeing one of the others, if he isn’t feeling...). “Monokuma is in that game.”

He wants to ask whether she remembers their nights together, on some level. Anything, an echo, a sensation. When she looks at him, does she feel him there in the way he feels her?

But she has a lab full of weaponry, and he’s not especially eager to be the next corpse.

-

Something’s strange when he wakes, something’s wrong. He doesn’t remember last night. Not the part where he was awake; the part where he was asleep.

He checks for the key, finds it pinned under one of his legs.

It didn’t work? It must have fallen out of his hand before he was fully asleep. Or maybe he went to bed before anyone else; he suspects, from a couple of unsuccessful naps in the daytime, that the key doesn’t work if everyone else is awake.

It almost seems like a wasted opportunity when he doesn’t know how many nights he has left in the world, but he’s feeling pretty good. Well-rested. Maybe it’s good for him to take the occasional break from the hotel.

-

“Looking to buy a key?”

Shuichi looks sharply up from the slot machine. It’s Kokichi, and this conversation already feels dangerous. “A key?”

“No?” Kokichi asks, innocently. “I was so sure you would be, when it gave you _such_ a good time last night.”

He knows? Shuichi’s heart can’t decide whether it wants to stop dead or jump into triple time. Kokichi knows, he remembers—

Wait. Shuichi didn’t see Kokichi in the hotel last night. He didn’t see _anyone_ in the hotel last night. The key didn’t work.

Unless...

(No, it’s not possible.)

Unless _Kokichi_ was the one who...

“ _You_ used the key?” Shuichi asks, trying to keep any hint of panic out of his voice. He’s not sure he succeeds.

Kokichi beams. “Let me tell you, Shuichi, you have some _interesting_ fantasies.”

No. No, Kokichi has always been a liar, he’s just lying again. Shuichi would remember. There’s no way.

But... but none of the others seem to remember, when Shuichi is the one to use the key.

Shuichi tries to swallow. “What did we...”

“What did we do?” Kokichi asks, brightly. “You begged me to put a rope between your teeth and ride you around the room like one of those carousel horses. I said no, obviously, I couldn’t let you debase yourself like that, but you wouldn’t stop pleading and crying, it was _very_ unattractive—”

“Tell me the truth, Kokichi.” It... _isn’t_ the truth, right? After all this time in other people’s fantasies, he barely knows what his own are.

“Oh, you saw through that one?” Kokichi asks. “You’re right; it was a lie. We both know you’re at your most attractive when you’re crying.”

“I think I deserve to know what happened.”

“And I’m sure you’ve been telling everyone else exactly what you’ve been up to at night, riiiiight?”

Shuichi tries, desperately and unsuccessfully, to keep his expression blank.

“So what was my fantasy?” Kokichi asks, linking his hands behind his head, crossing one ankle over the other. “You know, when you fucked me in my sleep.”

It – when he puts it like that, it sounds _really_ bad. “I didn’t—”

“Please. Don’t try to pretend you’re not the one who keeps buying up the casino’s entire key supply. Leave some for the rest of us, will ya? I mean, exciting as it is to touch Kaito knowing you were there first—”

“ _Kaito?_ ” No. It’s not possible.

A slow smirk spreads across Kokichi’s face. “Ohhh.”

No. Kaito wouldn’t. Not with Kokichi. Not... not even in that place.

“You didn’t go through with it, did you?” Kokichi asks, evidently delighted. “Not with Kaito. Because with Kaito it had to be _real_.”

There’s no way that’s right. Well, it’s true that Kaito is one of the few people Shuichi hasn’t been... intimate with, in his dreams, but it’s not like Shuichi’s been holding back because...

They’re _friends_ , it’s not like Shuichi is...

Maybe it’s too late to be worrying about his sexuality if he’s started actively hoping to see Kiyo when he falls asleep.

“You’ll be disappointed if your dream ever comes true, y’know,” Kokichi says. “He’s terrible in bed. Just awful. Hey, d’you want me to tell him you’re in love with him?”

Shuichi has been blushing for... most of this conversation, he suspects, but somehow he feels himself blushing _deeper_. “Can you just stop?”

“I can whisper it tenderly into his ear when I’m pounding him into the mattress,” Kokichi suggests. “It’ll be very romantic.”

“Kokichi—”

“‘Hey, Kaito, did you know Shuichi’s in love with you? I should probably have guessed when his deep, dark fantasy turned out to be that I was an astronaut.’”

Is that true? He’s a little afraid to ask.

Kokichi catches his expression and laughs. “Don’t worry; that was a lie. Your fantasy was _actually_ of fucking a grand piano.”

“I’m going back to my room,” Shuichi says.

Kokichi winks. “See you tonight, if you’re lucky.”

-

Shuichi still has the key from last night, the one that presumably didn’t work because Kokichi whisked him away instead. He tosses it into the bin as soon as he’s back in his dorm room, throws himself onto the bed. Tries not to think about what memories Kokichi might have of him, or of Kaito.

Two hours pass.

He fishes it out of the bin.

It’s not always reliable, but... he can sometimes influence who he sees in the hotel, if he’s thinking about someone in particular as he falls asleep.

It’s worth a try. Whether it works or not, this is the last time. He can’t do this any more, not now that he’s really been hit with what it means to be on the other side of it.

-

It’s always the same, Kaito’s fantasy. Ninety-nine wins each, something Kaito has to tell Shuichi after this last race. But the race will never happen, so Shuichi will never know.

Until tonight.

“Tell me now,” Shuichi says.

Kaito raises his eyebrows. “Huh?”

“That thing you want to tell me,” Shuichi says. “Tell me now. Otherwise I’ll just let you win.”

“No way,” Kaito says. “I know you’ve got more pride than that.”

Shuichi shrugs, trying to look casual. “You said you’d only tell me if you won. Maybe I want to know more than I want to beat you.”

Kaito snorts. “Always up to your dirty tricks.”

He looks Shuichi in the eyes. There’s something hard and burning behind it, a physical force. Shuichi takes half a step backward.

A long moment passes, and then Kaito breaks into a grin. “I love you, you asshole.”

Shuichi lets out a long breath. It’s shaking.

“I know it’s not really for me,” he says, quietly. He _knows_. Kaito’s not in love with him, no more than Tsumugi is his stepsister, no more than Himiko transformed him from a wolf into a human. He knows. He has to keep telling himself that. “I just... I needed to hear you say it. Once.”


End file.
